


i once was poison ivy but now i'm your daisy

by intertwiningwords



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, F/M, First Kiss, First Meeting, First Time, Flower Language, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 19:44:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16271072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwiningwords/pseuds/intertwiningwords
Summary: pansy works in a tattoo parlor; neville owns a flower shop across the street. they meet.





	i once was poison ivy but now i'm your daisy

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: there is a part where Neville discusses what happened to his parents in this fic - because this is a non-magic AU i changed the situation and there are VERY BRIEF and NON-GRAPHIC mentions of abuse, breaking in, and torture - if this triggers you please avoid reading from when Pansy asks why he's talking about his parents in the past tense until the next section separated by "***"! I chose not to use the Archive Warnings because the description is very brief and non-graphic.

Neville Longbottom buys his flower shop in the heart of town, excited to start a new chapter in his life while doing what he loves. Pansy Parkinson has been working at the tattoo parlor across the street from the previously empty shop for a few months now. It’s inevitable that the two of them will meet.

Pansy is fresh out of school, her tattooing license new. At the parlor, she mostly runs the counter or pierces noses of teenage girls accompanied by frowning mothers. But she longs to see the ink entering skin beneath her fingers, to know she’s creating a permanent art on someone’s body, an anonymous signature of sorts. She practices her art until her wrists ache.

Lately, her obsession is flowers. A popular thing to get tattooed yet not something that came to her easily yet.

On her lunch break, she wanders into the flower shop for inspiration to sketch. Earlier in the day, a man with messy black hair had gotten a lily tattooed on his forearm, and she wants to explore the different kinds of flowers and how to imitate their shapes.

Her black hair is tied in a messy bun on the back of her neck, and her lipstick is smudged at the corner of her mouth from lunch, though she’s unaware of it. She strolls through the front door with the confidence of someone who doesn’t have a ring of pink around her mouth, the little bell on the door jingling and announcing her arrival.

The shop is small yet well-stocked with everything from roses to tulips to lilies to succulents. She browses the colorful arrangements before pausing in front of a pot with carnations of white and soft pink, putting her pencil to the page and starting a line mimicking the waves of petals.

“Good afternoon,” a cheery voice behind her says, making her jump and draw a thick, accidental streak across her paper. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the voice speaks again as she turns.

Oh. Wow. She takes in his appearance with deer-in-headlights eyes. She’s seen him before, but only from the back, across a street. He’s tall and quite strong, but he doesn’t look muscular. He’s softer, especially around the middle, and his cheeks are round and flushed, a slight scruff making him look more mature. He has mousy brown hair that falls over eyes which are almost the same shade. And his smile is brighter than any light that dangles from the shop’s ceiling.

“That’s alright,” she manages to say after what she imagines is a pathetically long pause. “I hope you don’t mind, I work across the street...I was just going to, um, sketch some of the flowers? If that’s okay, I don’t know if that counts as loitering-”

The man chuckles. “Of course I don’t mind. Are you a tattoo artist?”

“In training,” she replies.

“That’s awesome! I’ve always been to chicken to get one myself, but I think they’re beautiful.”

“Oh, they hurt me like hell, I just love them enough to subject myself to it.”

“How brave,” he says with a grin, eyebrows raised.

She shrugs. “So, I like tattoos, and I assume you like plants?”

“Not at all,” he teases. “I’ve wanted to open my own shop for a while now, but I never found the right place.”

“I think that’s brave. Having your own business, I mean. I work in a shop but I don’t need to pay the rent or worry about the Yelp reviews.”

He laughs again, a sweet sound that tugs at Pansy’s heartstrings in the most unfair way. She’s only just met the guy, goddammit. At least learn his  _ name  _ first-

“I’m Pansy,” she says abruptly, sticking out her hand.

“Neville. Nice to meet you, Pansy,” he says with a smile, reaching out to take her hand and shake it. “The verb  _ ‘pansee _ ’ in French means to think, but in flower language, pansies are symbolistic of love and admiration.”

She hates the way she can feel herself flush a little, and she hopes he doesn’t notice. She catches her own reflection in a mirror on the wall behind Neville’s head and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. “Wow,” she says. “It’s so cool that you know that off the top of your head.”

“It’s my job.”

“Well, it’s a job you’re passionate about, clearly.”

“I am.”

“That’s good. That’s not something everyone can say.”

Pansy’s phone buzzes in her pocket, making her jump. She pulls it out to reveal a text from one of the other artists, telling her to hurry back.

“Shit,” she mutters. “Duty calls. I’ll see you around, Neville.”

“Yeah, see you.”

She didn’t get her practice in, but she did get something much better.

 

***

 

The next day, there’s a single pansy flower left on the counter when she gets in. She holds the stem between her thumb and first finger, turning the flower around in her hand, unable to fight the smile twitching on her lips.

“Secret admirer?” Draco, one of her fellow artists and friends teases as he struts by.

Pansy sticks up her middle finger at him, making him chuckle.

“The flower guy across the street? He’s cute, but I didn’t think he’d be your type.”

“Oh, and what about your crush on the guy you tattooed yesterday? With the glasses?”

Draco’s pale, pointed face goes pink and he scowls at Pansy playfully. “Shut up.”

Pansy sticks out her tongue before sitting at her chair, carefully placing the flower beside her bag, her eyes lingering on it for another moment before she gets to work, checking the appointments for the day, returning phone calls, and all the other more boring aspects of her job.

She sees him enter the store, flip the ‘CLOSED’ sign to ‘OPEN’ and go inside, and it looks like he’s whistling to himself as he does so. He’s so goddamn cheerful and cute, and so far from what Pansy ever thought she’d want in a person, but when she looks at him, she feels her heart twist in her chest.

“Excuse me?”

A soft voice interrupts her internal monologue, and Pansy looks up. “Oh, hi!”

“Hi, I have an appointment with Blaise?”

Pansy looks down at her little planner.

“Luna, is it?”

“That’s me.”

“Awesome, he’ll be right with you.”

The girl’s blonde hair falls down to almost her waist, and when she sits down in one of their leather armchairs, it falls onto her legs, bare from where her dress has ridden up.

Pansy’s known for being a bit of a flirt when it comes to the particularly pretty clients, but even Luna cannot pull Pansy’s thoughts away from Neville.

Blaise comes out of the back room and grins at Luna. “Hey love, we coloring that baby in today?” he asks.

She smiles and nods, standing to hug him quickly before following him back.

Pansy is alone with her own imagination again, and Neville’s grinning face seems to fill her mind. God, she needs to get out more. She needs a drink, maybe some karaoke, a new dress, and to get fucked until she can’t think straight anymore. Yeah, that’s exactly what she needs.

 

***

 

She finds herself wandering into the flower shop later in the week.

“Oh, hi Pansy!” Neville says immediately. The only other customer in there is a man, looking at the roses presumably for a partner at home. “Yellow roses symbolize friendship, so if this is for your wife, I’d suggest red or pink,” Neville tells him.

“Husband, actually,” the man says. He has dark skin and black curls, and his hands are stained with dry paint.

“Oh, I’m sorry to assume-”

“No worries, man. Thanks for the tip,” the man grins at him, putting the yellow flowers back and inspecting a bouquet of pink ones.

“Hi,” Pansy says with a smile.

Neville looks flustered from his other interaction, but his soft smile instantly returns when he looks at her. “What brings you here?”

“I was looking for a plant for my apartment,” she blurts. She isn’t. She doesn’t have the time to water a plant. She barely remembers to feed her cat sometimes. But it’s the best excuse she’s got.

“Let me ring this guy up and I can help you look if you’d like.”

“I would.”

Neville goes to ring up the guy buying flowers for his husband, and Pansy lingers, picking the green polish off her fingernails restlessly.

The other man leaves after a moment, flowers clutched to his chest, and he offers Pansy a small smile as their eyes meet just before he steps out, the bell on the door jingling behind him.

“So, what were you thinking of?”

“Huh?”

“For your apartment.”

“Oh! Right. Well, I have a cat, so something that won’t kill her if she tries to eat it would be great.”

Neville chuckles. “I think I have something that I think you would like. I’ll be right back.” He turns on his heel and goes back behind the counter, humming beneath his breath as he looks for something before he perks up and reaches for what Pansy assumes is the plant in question.

He makes his way back with the pot cupped in his hands, a little succulent in a black cup. It’s pointed leaves stick out over the sides. “Blue Echeveria. It’s non-toxic to pets, requires very little water, and as long as you leave it by a window it should thrive. They’re very low-maintenance.”

Pansy takes the pot in her hands carefully, examining the plant. “I actually love it. I’ve never been much of a flower girl. I’d much rather be brought chocolates on a date,” she laughs.

He raises an eyebrow. “Good to know,” he says.

Why was he so smooth? Fuck. She clears her throat, cheeks flushing pink.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t apologize. I’m just awkward.”

“I am too.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“That was a very bold move. I have no idea where it came from.”   
“Well, I liked it.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

They both look at each other for a moment before laughing, the discomfort in the air strangely...comfortable, although that’s an oxymoron. Pansy tucks a strand of her short hair behind her ear, sucks her lower lip between her teeth. Neville fiddles with the hem of his sweater.

“Do you -”

“Would you -? No, you go.”

“No, you.”

They both laugh again, Neville rubs the back of his neck shyly. “I was just going to ask if you...If you would like to get dinner with me sometime?”

“I would like that a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“That’s - wow, uh, thank you.”

She grins. “No need to thank me,” she says. She pulls her phone out of her back pocket, unlocks it with her thumbprint, and opens a new contact. “Put your number in.”

He grins back, and takes her phone, typing in his number. When he hands it back, she sees he’s put a flower emoji next to his name. That makes her smile.

 

***

 

Millicent and her girlfriend, Hannah, offer to take Pansy dress shopping for her date. She appreciates the thought, though the trip consists mostly of the two girls flirting and kissing.

“This would look amazing on you,” Hannah said, handing Pansy a black dress that looks more like an oversized sweater, but it has  _ pockets _ and the fashionable yet unnecessary addition of a cutout in the chest. 

Pansy takes it in her hands, feeling the material under her hands. “I like this a lot. I’ll try it on!”

Millicent and Hannah disappear into the plus-size section for themselves while Pansy gets on the changing-room line, replying to a text from none other than Neville himself.

The dress is perfect; not too loose, not too tight. It has fucking  _ pockets _ for fuck’s sake.

She walks out with it slung over her arm, finding Hannah and Millicent with their arms full of clothes, smiling sheepishly at her as she fondly rolls her eyes. She’s normally impatient, but with Neville’s texts to keep her occupied, she doesn’t mind waiting while they try them on.

She’s the perfect mix of excited and nervous for the night.

 

***

 

With her new dress, some black shoes with a low heel, her winged eyeliner done to perfection, and red lipstick, she thinks she looks good. She  _ hopes _ she looks good.

Draco texts her good luck. Millicent texts her to be careful in case he’s a serial killer. Blaise texts her to use a condom. Hannah texts her a series of pink heart emojis and a lot of exclamation points.

She texts Neville that she’s at the restaurant. He tells her he’s only a moment away.

He steps out of a cab, a button-down shirt tucked into black skinny jeans, and it looks like his hair is slicked back. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers. Who would have guessed?. He sees her, and his jaw goes slack for a moment before he musters up the ability to grin.

“Hi,” Pansy says breathlessly.

“Hi. You look amazing,” he tells her.

“Thank you. So do you.”

“I tried,” he laughs. He holds out the flowers. “These are for you.”

“Really? I thought they were for our waiter.”

“Oh, haha. Very funny.”

The bouquet is made up of lavender roses, pansies, and violets. She takes it and smells the flowers, her lips curling into a smile. “They’re beautiful.”

He smiles back. “I’m glad you like them,” he says before extending his hand. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she replies playfully, taking his hand.

It’s a small restaurant with a mostly vegan menu, which Pansy doesn’t mind one bit. She’s always wanted to go vegan, but she likes cheese way too much. There are fairy lights strung around the walls, and their table is off in the corner and away from other customers, which Pansy appreciates.

They get a bottle of rosé wine and Pansy orders paella because it’s what Neville orders and it sounds pretty damn delicious, though she’s never had it before.

“So, I know that I hate when people ask me to tell them about myself,” Neville starts saying, taking a sip of his wine. “But I would like to get to know you, so I’m afraid I must ask.”

She chuckles. “Well, I grew up a few towns away from here, I’m an only child. I went to college for art and got my license in tattooing and piercing. I moved here, got an apartment, got a cat. Her name is Pirate and I adopted her about a year ago. She’s only got one eye which is why I named her that.”

“That’s adorable. Could I see a picture of her?”

“I am so glad you asked. I have millions.”

Pansy spent the next few minutes showing Neville pictures of Pirate sleeping, sitting by the window, tucked under a blanket, laying in the sink, mid-yawn so it looks like she’s screaming...All the best cat poses, truly. And he laughs and coos and asks questions about her. It’s wholesome.

“But yeah, that’s really all that’s interesting about me I guess. What about you?”

Neville shrugs. “I went to UNI for biology and it was a bloody useless degree. I’ve always loved plants. I used to garden with my parents a lot as a kid.”

She smiles. “What do your parents do?”

“Oh, my mum worked in a women’s shelter and my dad was a photography professor,” he says.

She frowns, furrowing her brows. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry but...You’re talking all in the past tense.”

Neville takes another sip of his wine. “They’re alive, don’t worry. It’s a very long story.”

“We have time if you’re okay telling it.”

He sighs. “When I was about four, my grandma wanted me to stay the night at her house, so my parents dropped me off. I cried for hours. I kept telling my grandma that I would never see them again, and she told me I was silly and that they’d be over in the morning to pick me up. I believed her after about the thirtieth time. So, my mum worked with women who had been abused, and sometimes the men who the women had escaped from would come looking for them, and my mum was the one who they spoke to and she would send them away. This one guy found out where we lived, I assume he followed her home one night. And so, the night I was with my grandma, he broke into our house while my parents were asleep and...Well, he tried to kill them, but he was really hopped up on drugs and he was shaking and...My parents basically went crazy. They say he got into the house around midnight and didn’t leave until about eight in the morning. And my grandma didn’t want to take care of them...She’s not the most caring woman. So, they live in a home for trauma survivors now.” He finishes his story with a shrug, taking another sip of his wine, but his hands are shaking.

Pansy is speechless for a moment, then she reaches across the table and takes his hand softly, rubbing her thumb across his calloused knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“Don’t be.” Neville clears his throat. “What about your parents?”

 

***

 

Pansy is guilty of a few one-night stands. A ginger girl with strong arms and freckles everywhere. A boy with brown curls and soft eyes. She’s not ashamed of it.

This is not a one-night stand. She feels that the minute she unlocks the door to her apartment and Neville toes his shoes off at the door politely and looks around with a fond smile. Pirate comes running to greet them, rubbing against Pansy’s legs before sniffing Neville.

“Hi Pirate,” he says softly, offering his finger for her to smell and inspect before she butts her head right into his hand happily.

Pansy giggles. “She doesn’t usually like strangers,” she says.

“I feel honored.”

And then, they’re kissing.

Neville tastes like wine and his lips are surprisingly soft.

Her bedroom is embarrassingly messy, clothes were strewn across the floor. Her succulent sits on her bedroom windowsill. Neville’s eyes catch it for a moment with a smirk.

Pansy is shocked by his confidence in the bedroom. He’s fucking hot with his clothes  _ on _ , but with them off Pansy thinks she could faint.

And when his head disappears beneath the sheets, scruff tickling her inner thighs, she thinks she might have found the man she’ll fucking marry. She comes  _ twice _ that night, and she falls asleep against his chest.

 

***

 

Pansy looks up from her phone as she hears the door to the parlor open and close.

Neville strides right up to the counter and grins at her. “I brought you lunch, babe.”

“You’re godsent,” Pansy replies, standing up to kiss him quickly and take the bag from him.

“I try,” he teases.

“Now go run your shop,” she says playfully, pushing his chest gently.

“Ugh, fine. See you later?”

“Of course.”

He pecks her lips one last time before leaving again, and Pansy smiles to herself.

“Ugh, straight people,” Draco mutters, only half-joking.

“I’m bi, get it right,” Pansy replies, throwing a pen at him.

He dodges it easily, sticking up his middle finger at her.

“As if you and that guy-”

“His name is  _ Harry _ .”

“Aren’t as disgusting.”

“At least I keep it out of the workplace.”

“You literally tattooed his thigh like, two days ago. He was practically naked. So professional.”

“I’ve literally had girls completely topless on my table but having a guy with his pants around his ankles is too scandalous for you?”

“Yes.”

“This is blatant homophobia.”

Pansy can’t help but break character, laughing.

And Draco laughs too. “Can I say something really cheesy and gross and then I promise I’ll go back to bullying you?”

“Go ahead.”

“You seem a lot...happier now. Not that you need literally anyone because you’re an independent bad bitch, but ever since you and Neville got together...You just seem to smile more. I’m happy that he’s making you happy.”

Pansy launches herself across the desk to hug him, kissing his cheek in the most obnoxious, sloppy way. “You’re the cutest. I knew you had a heart somewhere! Ugh, thank you though.”

Draco pulls away, feigning disgust as he wipes his cheek, but his face is flushed and there’s a smile threatening to make its way onto his face. “Whatever,” he mutters.

And when he goes back to talk to Blaise, Pansy opens the bag Neville brought her.

There’s a single pansy flower resting on top of the Tupperware container, and she wonders how she ever got so lucky.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> https://www.forever21.com/us/shop/catalog/product/f21/dress/2000334898 - this is what i pictured pansy's dress to look like!!
> 
> thanks for reading hope u enjoyed feedback is lit ok bye


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